


Tear In My Heart

by Blubs



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, nothing but sadness, thats not even an exaggeration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-21
Updated: 2015-04-21
Packaged: 2018-03-25 03:20:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3794722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blubs/pseuds/Blubs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fenris receives a letter from an old friend containing the worst news possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a thing I knocked together for my good friendo Bec. Enjoy the heartache, trashbag!

The sun had set hours ago but Fenris couldn't pull himself away from the sheet of paper he had held dangerously tight in his gauntleted hand. He had been unable to think, his mind so fogged that it became difficult to grind out a single thought. So he sat there, in the middle of nowhere using the light of his camp fire to read and reread the neat calligraphy scrawled onto the parchment that had been open and folded so often, it threatened to crumble in his hand.

Immediately upon receiving the letter all those days ago, Fenris had wished he has never been taught to read.

Every night on his travel to the Frostback mountains, he carefully pulled out the note and began reading it again. Every time he hoped he had read it wrong. Every time he was wrong and his eyes lingered for a little too long on 4 words which sat somewhere in the middle of the clamour of apologies.

"She didn't make it."

By this point, Fenris had been travelling for almost a week and estimated he was less than a days walk from his destination. He thought that being on his own in the wilderness would give him time to clear his thoughts, but it succeeded only in making him realise how alone he truly was. Now she was gone, he really did have nobody. The woman - a mage, no less - who had dedicated a great deal of her time to ensuring he would never have to be alone again was now gone.

He didn't cry. He didn't see the point in wasting energy that he could be using elsewhere. Not even when he was miles from another living person did he allow a tear to slip.

The paper made a satisfying tearing noise as he crushed it in his hand, his clawed gauntlets ripping it as he tightened his grasp. A voice in his mind screamed at him for the action, but it was ultimately drowned out by a louder voice. A voice telling him that it was just paper. Paper was replaceable, a life was not.

He tossed the ball of paper into the fire, watching as it turned black and then to cinders before taking a swig from the wine bottle he had been clutching in his other hand. Sleep did not come easily to Fenris since the letter arrived. The lack of clear thinking gave way to waves of voices, overlapping so furiously that it all turned into white noise. He drank to quell the voices; to subdue the white noise that was Her.

A lapse of judgement, a tidal wave of rage was all it took. The elf took one last hearty drink of the red wine before throwing it with all his might from the log on which he sat. Somewhere in the darkness a smash could be heard.

He hadn't realised the roar that had erupted from him until the sound echoed back to him. Bringing his hands up to his face, he dug the heel of his palm into one of his eyes in an attempt to suppress the sting that had formed in his eyes.

How could he sleep now if his only form of comfort had just been throw wildly into the darkness? He let out a groan of regret before setting his elbows on his knees and raking his hands through his hair.

It would be a long night.


	2. Chapter 2

Under different circumstances, Fenris would probably have admired Skyhold for all its massive architectural beauty. The way the hold was perched precariously on the plateau was a testament to whomever it was that built it.

Instead of admiration, his lean form filled with heated anger. Anger had been the only emotion he'd been able to conjour and when he wasn't angry, he slipped into something close to catatonia. Rage bubbled through him as easily as blood through his veins. The sensation was not new to him, but this time he didn't have a well-meaning, beautiful, frustrating, enfuriatingly perfect mage to help him handle it.

He would never admit it, but the years he had spent with Her had slightly altered his views on mages. He learned to judge people through actions, and not through what weapon they favoured. One thing that She couldn't fix was how much he detested the abomination better known as Anders. He would be the reason Fenris would always, deep down, never fully trust a any mage. Any except Her.

Heads turned as the lyrium scarred elf stormed through the courtyard, making a beeline for the main keep. The letter had told Fenris to stay away but not one person expected him to stay where he was.

"Where is Varric Tethras?" Fenris demanded, standing in the doorway to the keep, one hand holding the door open and the other balled into a fist by his side.

Olive green eyes scoured the large room, lit mostly by the large windows situated behind a minimalistic throne. Nobles and workers alike stopped whatever they were doing and stared wordlessly at him. It was clear he wouldn't get an answer from this gaggle.

He was stopped just as he turned to leave the room.

"I should've known you'd turn up here sooner or later," a familiar voice resonated from his left.

There Varric stood, one hand rubbing the back of his neck as he stared up at Fenris with sympathetic eyes. He didn't have to say sorry as his expression said it for him.

"You," Fenris growled, turning his head to look at the dwarf through a mess of white bangs. "You didn't stop her."

"That would've been like trying to stop the rain from falling. You know what she was like."

Was. He had referred to her in the past tense. The weight of the word was extraordinary; like someone had dumped a tonne of flagstone on him without warning. For a second he forgot how to breathe.

Ire flared through his markings, making them flare brighter than he had ever remembered them to glow. The initial burst of light lasted only long enough for him to bring a hand to Varric's throat before it dulled to the usual vexed shine. Fenris had no real control over his actions. His mind, previously full of static, had filled to the brim with ugly thoughts.

_Kill him. He could have stopped her, told her to leave. Why didn't he stay behind? Rip out his heart and leave this place for good._

The thoughts had become deafening, almost drowning out Varric's crushed pleas. His hands were wrapped around Fenris' wrist, urging him to let go. Nobody doubted that the ex-slave would kill him, regardless of their history. After all, he had killed his own sister in front of a bar full of people. If he had been able to dispatch his own flesh and blood, killing someone unrelated to him should be a walk in the park.

Varric always thought he'd die by the hands of some crazed templar or power-hungry mage, never by the gauntleted hand of someone he had considered a friend. If he were to die here, he wouldn't blame Fenris. He had every opportunity to substitute himself for her. He remembered her saying goodbye and the final warm smile she had shot him before steeling herself and charging off to face the gargantuan creature in the Fade. Varric would never forget the misty glint in his friend's unimaginably blue eyes.

Fenris also thought of her eyes- the eyes that almost rivalled the blue of his lyrium glimmer. Never gain would he get to experience the twinkle she'd get when talking about alchemy or when she would notice something in the market place. The mental image of her sparkling ice blue eyes warped into how he had last seen them. Her eyes were filled with sorrow. Leaving him for any length of time brought her no joy. As she left him at the inn they were staying at, she shot him a final sad smile, promising she would be no longer than two months.

_Stop. She wouldn't want this. If she were here, she would be ashamed. But she promised. And Varric didn't look after her. He always looked after her. Not this time._

_Stop._

Just as Varric resigned himself to his fate of being choked out by Fenris, he was suddenly released.

Fenris pulled his hand away and let it drop back to his side. His brow furrowed, desperately searching Varric's face for something. Anything. He had almost killed one of his few friends over something he could not have prevented.

"She... would not want this," Fenris managed, breath starting to hitch as a lump grew quickly in his throat.

Varric rubbed a hand over the front of his neck before looking up to Fenris and seeing his eyes wet, threatening to loose a tear. She had never seen his friend like this. Fenris didn't do emotions so this took Varric back.

Forest green eyes filled with tears, a feeling alien to Fenris. He looked away from Varric, as though him seeing himself in this way would be met with mockery.

"She was always proud of you, Broody," Varric offered, laying a hand on Fenris' limp arm.

At that, the flood gates were opened. Fenris had not allowed himself to grieve properly and now it was all catching up to him. The wave of sorrow hit him like a herd of druffalo, threatening to knock him off of his feet. By this point, he had totally forgotten about the room full of people where were still standing silently, watching the scene in front of them.

Letting out a guttural yell, he lifted an arm numbly before landing a punch on the wooden door frame. The impact hurt like the Void and for that, he was thankful. He needed something - anything - to reign himself in and away from the quicksand of misery and despair.

Growling again, he turned his attention to the roof. "Kaffas, Hawke!" His voice breaking, moments from turning into sobs. What followed was a string of curse words, every one in Tevene. He cursed her for meeting him, for opening his eyes to the world outside of slavery, for dragging him through half a mage-templar war, for changing him.

"And fasta vass for extinguishing the only light I had left in my life."


End file.
